Page 29 of Dark Desires (Chicago Bratva #1)

ALEXEI

“ I sabella!”

The noises are deafening—shouts in Spanish, screams from Isabella, and the whipping of the helicopter blades.

My chest tightens as I watch her being hauled up, her terrified screams fading as she vanishes out of sight. She’s gone, pulled out of my reach, and my blood turns to ice.

“Isabella!” I shout her name again, but it’s pointless—they’ve got her.

Gunfire rips through the air, snapping me back into the moment. There are two men still here, in my apartment, trying to cover their tracks. My grip tightens on my gun, rage boiling over.

I pivot and fire, my bullet catching one of them in the shoulder.

He stumbles, clutching his arm, but the other one reacts instantly, opening fire and forcing me to dive for cover behind the couch.

The acrid stench of gunpowder fills the air as rounds chew through the furniture, splintering wood and shredding fabric.

I blind-fire over the top of the couch, hearing a grunt as one of my shots connects. Good. I reload quickly, rising just enough to fire again.

My focus is singular: Find the bastards, neutralize them, and figure out where the hell they’re taking Isabella.

A shadow moves in my peripheral vision. My instincts scream at me to turn, but I’m too late.

Bang.

Pain explodes in my head as a boot slams into it. The force sends me stumbling backward, my breath knocked clean out of my lungs. I hit the floor hard, the sharp edge of an end table connecting with the back of my head.

Everything goes black.

A pounding headache drags me back to consciousness.

I feel like I got hit by a truck, and for a moment, I lie there, the events before my blackout rushing back in jagged flashes. Isabella. The men. The gunfire.

I groan and press a hand to my head. There’s blood. The left side of my face stings and pulsates from the pain where the back of my head met the end table.

My fingers tremble as I look around and notice the pool of blood I woke up in. I’m alone, which means they mistook me for dead and left. I’ll make them pay for that mistake.It takes a lot more to crack this particularly hard skull of mine.

I sit up slowly, wincing as pain shoots through my back and head. My apartment looks like a damn war zone. The early morning wind howls through the shattered glass from the balcony door, rattling what’s left of my living room.

I step into the elevator, briefly wondering how in the hell they got into my apartment in the first place. I punch the button to the roof and step out onto the pad. The horizon glows with the first rays of sunrise. My fists clench as rage fills me.

I failed her. I failed them.

I go back down to the wreck of my apartment.

I don’t have time to dwell on my failure. The soft ding of the elevator pulls me back to the present. My gun’s in my hand before I even think about it, aimed at the door.

The adrenaline surges again.

The doors slide open, and relief hits me as I see who steps out: Lev, Luk, Yuri, and Grigori. Their eyes sweep over the wreckage.

“Holy hell,” Lev says. “Elena’s alarm system pinged us about a break-in. We came as soon as we could.”

I lower my weapon. “He took her.”

“Who?” Luk asks.

“De la Rosa.” My grip tightens on the gun as I fight to keep control. “He took Isabella.”

Yuri curses under his breath, and Grigori’s face darkens.

“And the cops,” Grigori says. “We saw them downstairs. We barely beat them to the elevator.”

“Cops?” I ask.

Grigori nods. “Agent Patterson and Detective Barnes, along with a small team of officers, are in the lobby. I’m guessing they’re here for you—or this.”

He gestures to the destruction around us.

The rage boiling in my chest is almost unbearable. I slam my fist against the wall.

“The war isn’t coming. It’s here.”

Luk steps closer. “We’ll handle the cops. You focus. Where would De la Rosa take her?”

I shake my head, trying to force my brain to work through the haze of anger and pain. “He has connections everywhere. His compounds are scattered. We need intel.”

Grigori steps forward. “And we need it fast. If he took her, it’s not just personal—it’s leverage. He knows how important she is to you.”

“I take it you figured it out by now,” I mutter.

“Notice how none of us asked what Isabella was doing here in the first place,” Luk shoots back with a wink.

Important doesn’t even begin to cover it. She’s carrying my child. My fists tighten. De la Rosa crossed a line he can’t uncross.

“We can deal with Patterson and Barnes,” Yuri says. “You need to get your head straight and plan your next move.”

I nod. “We’re not waiting for their permission to act. The Feds want to play their game, let them. We’ll play ours.”

Lev smirks grimly. “Damn straight.”

The grim truth settles over all of us. This is the beginning of an all-out war.

And De la Rosa made the mistake of making it personal.

The elevator dings again, and I turn my attention to the doors. Patterson strides out with Barnes on her heels, followed by a small squad of uniformed cops. Their boots crunch over the shattered glass.

Patterson’s sharp gaze sweeps over the scene, landing on me and my brothers. Her expression is pure steel.

“Plushenko,” she starts, “what the hell happened here?”

I step forward. My chest is still aching from the earlier shot, but I don’t let it show.

“De la Rosa took Isabella Mancini,” I say.

Patterson stops short, visibly thrown by the blunt statement.

“What was she doing here?” she asks.

“That is none of your concern,” I reply. “It’s personal and unrelated to whatever issue you might have with my family or De la Rosa, for that matter. She got caught in the middle of this shitstorm. And we’re going to get her back.”

She catches herself, her jaw tightening. “No, you’re not doing anything. This is my investigation. Like hell, I’m going to stand here and let you all go on some vigilante mission. Not a chance.”

Lev lets out a low, humorless laugh from behind me.

“Arrest us then, because we’re not sitting on our asses while De la Rosa is holding an innocent woman.”

Patterson narrows her eyes. “Everyone out of here but Barnes,” she says, addressing the cops. They all dutifully file into the elevator and leave.

Barnes raises his hands. “Let’s not start something here. You’re both on the same side of this one.”

“If you would have just worked with me in the first place, this never would have happened.”

“But it’s happened and you’re wasting time,” I say, “and you know as well as I do that we’ll find her faster than your people can.”

I step slowly toward her.

“I know how federal operations work. They’re slow, bogged down with procedure and protocol. Not us. We can move in, save Isabella, bring down De la Rosa while you’re still waiting for a phone call from some suit in a cushy office.”

She says nothing. She knows I’m right.

“All you have to do is look the other way. Let us work. That’s it.”

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

“If I agree to this, this arrangement stays in this room.”

“You’ve already agreed,” Lev cuts in. “Otherwise, we’d all be in cuffs right now.”

“Enough,” Barnes says. “No need to measure everyone’s well, you know, right now. We can combine resources. Share intel. We find Isabella, and De la Rosa gets taken down. Everyone wins.”

The room goes silent for a beat.

“I don’t like this. Any of it. But fine. Truce. For now.” Patterson looks me dead in the eye. “Once this is over, once De la Rosa is taken down, I’m coming for you all. The Ivanov Bratva is going to be my special project.”

I don’t flinch. Instead, I smile, my eyes locked on hers.

“You’ll have your chance, Agent Patterson. But right now, we need to focus on Isabella.”

The room holds its breath for a moment, the unholy alliance sealed in silence.

Then Patterson steps back, turning to Barnes. “Get everything we have on De la Rosa. Now.”

I glance at my brothers.

Lev’s smirk says it all: The hunt has begun.